


(“i love you, too.”)

by eithne (campingzone)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hair Playing, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, i wrote this at 4:56am, mark doesn’t shove donghyuck away yes, mark lee loves lee donghyuck and so do i, migraines, overuse of the word gentle, please love them like i do, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 04:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20076238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campingzone/pseuds/eithne
Summary: but what didn’t hurt was a gentle hand, soft as silk, softly running its fingers through the hair at his forehead. the same hand cupped his cheek, and then there was the gentle, gentle voice, smooth like honey - familiar.donghyuck.





	(“i love you, too.”)

the camera closed shut, and finally mark took his opportunity, curling in on himself so his face was almost resting on his knees. his hands threaded around the back of his neck, and he hissed in pain, closing his eyes shut tight to try and block out some of the light in the room. his head was pounding with every pulse of his heart, and he felt as if he were going to split in half at any moment, the world spinning around him.

the members noticed, obviously, all of them hushing each other to keep down the noise. it was appreciated - they always worked so hard to keep mark happy; it always kept his smile on his face. even when they were recording in broad daylight, loud as sin in front of the camera, there was always a comforting hand on his thigh or a concerned glance sent his way.

it wasn’t like it was killing him - people got migraines all the time. it was just- mark’s were worst than most anyway, even without the stress piling on top of it. the fact that he had that as /well/ as light and sound induced migraines didn’t help, and instead made them twice as worse as they should’ve been. it drove him up the wall, because, for gods sake, he couldn’t /stand/ for them. it made his legs ache and shake, and he couldn’t see, and he’d gag and hit the floor gripping his head as if he were trying to tear it clean off his neck.

they hurt. they really hurt.

but what didn’t hurt was a gentle hand, soft as silk, softly running its fingers through the hair at his forehead. the same hand cupped his cheek, and then there was the gentle, gentle voice, smooth like honey - familiar.

donghyuck.

“hyung.” he’d mumble, moving mark’s hands off his neck and placing a hot mug in his left. painkillers were slipped into his right, and the blonde shoved them into his mouth on reflex, gulping the honey lemon tea down like a lifeline.  
he didn’t dare open his eyes, as much as he wanted to look at donghyuck’s beautiful face. whilst it definitely would’ve been worth it, with his crystal silver hair and gorgeous blue contacts, his half asleep, pain-riddled brain didn’t supply him with that information.

instead, he leant into the hand clasped around his cheek and jaw, and sighed quietly at the thumb gently caressing the skin under his eye.  
knowing haechan, he was probably worried about how dark the bags under his eyes were, and probably even deeper worried about how stressed and tired mark was. whilst mark didn’t actually have any problem with the amount of work he had to do, he did have to admit that it did take hours off his sleep schedule, and it did make him more groggy than usual. he did a good job of hiding it, but, obviously, as he always did, donghyuck noticed.

donghyuck had never /failed/ to notice.  
it was almost scary.

but donghyuck wasn’t scary.

and that’s why, when the younger pulled him up soft by the wrist, mark followed. when he guided the blonde’s face to his neck as they walked, mark followed. when he wrapped an arm around the taller’s waist, mark followed.

he’d always follow haechan. it’d be sin if he didn’t - you can’t just /ignore/ the angel that heaven sent you.  
(especially not when he’s as pretty as donghyuck lee.)

he wasn’t really, consciously aware of what happened next. he was vaguely aware of the fact that suddenly his shoes were gone, and they weren’t in the same room. he was lying down on something soft for a moment, and then his jeans were gone, and were quickly but gently replaced by his pajama bottoms, his oversized top left untucked (something small that he never bothered to thank haechan for. it was so much more comfortable that way).  
he was pulled up again, barely awake at this point. the pain had been dulled by the painkillers, and somewhere he was distantly conscious of the fact that he had more work to get done today, but-

“i’ll do it for you.”

sometimes he wished he could keep his tired mouth shut, but he couldn’t explain the relief he felt when he heard johnny mutter that as they walked past.  
speaking of they- everything smelt so lovely, here. admittedly, his face was shoved into the junction between donghyuck’s neck and shoulder, but- he smelt good, ok? like a mix between vanilla, honey and a vague scent of orange. it was everything that could make mark’s mouth water, and for a moment he considered going in for a taste, but then quickly remembered where he was, /who/ he was, and why exactly he should not do that. anything but that, really.

anywho, back on topic.

somewhere in his tired brain, something told him that he was lying down, now. he wasn’t sure what he was lying on - something soft, but it wasn’t a pillow. it continued to smell like donghyuck - beautiful, and sickeningly sweet. he was lying inwards, facing the back of the couch, he assumed. his warm tea had been taken off him and placed somewhere, and now his hands were tucked into his chest, fiddling with the zipper of someone’s jacket.  
presumably donghyuck’s jacket. just give him a moment.

it took quite a bit of deciphering, especially with the pain prickling at the back of his eyes once more, but he eventually came to the conclusion that he was absolutely lying down on the couch. specifically, lying down on donghyuck’s thigh, facing inwards so that his face was basically in the honey-skinned’s stomach. his fingers continued to fiddle with the slowly heating zipper, and then there was a hand through his hair.  
that action never failed to make him sigh, but- it was a happy sigh. donghyuck knew this (obviously, he seemed to know everything), and continued to just gently brush it out of mark’s face, a whistling hum stuck in his throat that came out more as a tuned breath.

mark could feel his eyes closing again, face buried purely in donghyuck’s stomach now after some clever shuffling (that wasn’t actually that clever. haechan had ended up moving his head /for/ him), and he felt like he could take on the entire world, drowned in the boy’s scent, the younger’s hand in his hair. ever so distantly, he could hear the other boys talking, and maybe one of them snapped a picture, but he wasn’t actually sure.  
nor did he care. all he cared about was the fact that donghyuck was suddenly lying down, and now his face was snuggled into the younger’s collar, each other’s arms around each other’s waist, legs tangled together like they would in their bed together on a particularly stormy night.

that hand through his hair didn’t stop, and it didn’t take long for him to drift away with the feeling, pleasant tingles running down his neck. the member’s voices faded to nothing, and he fell into unconsciousness, silence surrounding him slowly.

(but, even through the silence, his body supplied him with the feeling of donghyuck’s lips on his forehead, a whispered “i love you” running through his ears.)

(mark smiled.)

(“i love you, too.”)


End file.
